


MIA jitters

by HesitateDisintegrate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Anxious Sam Winchester, Brotherly Love, Caring Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kid Fic, Reading, Teen Dean Winchester, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28431693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HesitateDisintegrate/pseuds/HesitateDisintegrate
Summary: When John Winchester leaves both boys in a motel room while he goes on a hunt, Dean sees firsthand how anxious Sam gets while waiting. He cannot bear to see his brother so stressed out, so naturally, he does something about it.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	MIA jitters

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned before, I will be doing a 10 fics in 10 days challenge. Some have been prompted by others and will be credited accordingly, but this one is from my brain :p 
> 
> If you have a prompt feel free to comment it below or DM it on Instagram to oneofawall <3

Dean stepped out of the steamy bathroom rubbing a towel through his hair. He picked up the only phone John had left behind and for the fifth time that afternoon, his anger flared. No calls. No messages. 

Normally this would be all well and good, except it’s been three days since John said he would be back, and aside from a curt “nest located” text, Dean and his brother had heard nothing. Sam was sitting on the mouldy motel bed, facing the wall. He’d been in the same position before Dean ducked into the bathroom for his shower. 

Heck, he’d been sitting there staring at nothing since this morning. 

Dean clenched his jaw. He could practically feel the anxiety floating off of Sam, even if his brother was keeping deathly still to appear strong. Dean knew if he had gone with John, Sam would probably be pacing back and forth, wearing a hole through the floor right about now.

 _No. I would have sent a stupid text to tell him I’m alive._ Dean thought bitterly. 

At thirteen, it was rare for John to leave him behind for a hunt, but he had been in one of his drunken rages right before he left and Dean must have said something wrong because next thing he knew, there was a gun and a credit card thrown at him and the door slammed shut. 

He sighed deeply and tossed his wet towel over the back of the only chair in the room. He knew the rules; stay put and stay silent, but if he didn’t get out of this room now he would explode. More than that, Sammy would shake apart from nerves. 

_Was Sammy like this every time he and John left for a hunt?_ Dean didn’t want to examine the sharp feeling in his gut. 

He untwisted the mostly empty bag of bread on the counter, making Sam startle out of his fog and turn to him. 

“What are you doing Dean?”

“Making a sandwich. You want one?” There were three slices left. Dean unfolded a napkin that only had a small grease spot on it and laid the slices down. He opened a jar of peanut butter with the sinking realization that it was mostly empty. 

“Sure I guess,” Sam answered after a pause. 

Dean looked up from smearing the peanut butter and let his gaze rest on his brother. At nine years old, he was all skin, bones, and knobbly knees. His hair fell limply into his eyes, his clothes hung from his tiny frame, and he had dark half moons from staying up. As much as Dean pretended nothing was wrong, he had heard Sam tossing and turning anxiously the past few nights. 

He squished two buttered slices together and held the sandwich out to Sam, who slid off the bed and took it from Dean with a quiet thank you. Dean folded his own slice in half and took a large bite. 

It was probably an impulsive decision, but as soon as he made it he knew there was no going back. 

“We’re going out.” He informed his brother, who gave him a curious look. Possibly because he knew leaving was against the rules, probably because Dean had a mouthful of half chewed bread as he said it. 

Sam finished chewing and swallowed. “Dad said to stay here though.”

“Yeah well screw him. I’m not gonna stay cooped up in this room watching you worry yourself into a heart attack just because he can’t pick up the phone and call.”

“Dean,” Sam trailed off quietly. “What if he _can’t_ pick up the phone and call?”

“No. Nuh uh Sammy we are not going down that road. Dad is fine, he’s just an inconsiderate jerk. I’ll take the phone and gun with us. If he calls, I’ll answer. If anything comes after us, I’ll protect you.”

Sam looked at him with huge empty eyes. The kid was _pale._ He hadn’t seen the sun in well over a week. The broken down look on his brother’s face scared Dean more than the radio silence from his dad did. 

“We’ll just walk over to the park Sammy. The one we passed on our way here. Maybe sit on a bench. Read for a bit. I’ve got a copy of Slaughterhouse Five with me..” Dean bribed. The small smile Sam gave him lifted tonnes off his shoulders. 

He shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and slipped on his coat. He grabbed the beat up copy of Vonnegut from his duffle bag and slid it in his coat pocket, then grabbed the phone and room key. Dean checked that the gun was loaded with bullets before tucking it into the back of his waistband. Sam watched him do all this like he was absorbing it all, learning. 

“Ready kid?”

“I guess,” Sam answered, nervously wiping his hands on his jeans. For a brief moment, Dean wondered if leaving the room for a while would just make Sam more anxious, but as he opened his fists Dean saw the raw little crescents in his palms from digging his nails in. It was like a shot to the heart, seeing physical evidence of how stressed Sam was. He needed to get him away from these four walls; to distract him with something. 

_I’m doing the right thing,_ Dean told himself over and over as he locked the motel room door behind them. 

_Dad isn’t dead, he’ll be back soon,_ he repeated in his mind as he and Sam wandered down a small hill to a dinky little park where some kids were running around. 

Sam gravitated towards a huge oak tree and Dean sat, leaning against it’s trunk. Sam joined him and Dean chose not to comment on how tightly he pressed himself against Dean’s side. He pulled out his book and flipped to the soft worn front page. 

_“All this happened, more or less.”_


End file.
